


One and Only

by TheSpiderThatKnowsThePlan



Series: Blindsided [4]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blindness, Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Men Crying, Nightmares, Romance, Schmoop, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:34:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21553114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpiderThatKnowsThePlan/pseuds/TheSpiderThatKnowsThePlan
Summary: Blind!Pete and Patrick finally have their wedding day and honeymoon.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Series: Blindsided [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553179
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

Pete's alarm went off, and for just a moment, he felt disoriented to reach out his arm and find the space next to him empty. Then, the familiar smell of his childhood room, his old bed, and his own sheets hit him, and he remembered he was back at his parents' house. He and Patrick had decided it was bad luck to spend the night before the wedding together.

As Pete's twitching cock reminded him, he and Patrick had also been holding off the nakedness for the last week. Patrick thought it would be good to build some anticipation for their wedding night. As if there weren't enough of _that_. Pete hadn't jerked off this much since he was a teenager.

“Better take care of that now,” he muttered to the empty room as he stumbled off to the bathroom. “Don't wanna be tenting my suit on my wedding day.” He laughed to himself, thinking about how the photos would look (not that he would ever see them).

As Pete turned on the shower he was already mentally flipping through his catalogue of Patrick's sounds and touches, the tensing muscles and tingling skin, the feel of hot breath... He was already halfway to the finish line before he even got in the shower.

Once Pete had taken care of the two-sided business of getting dirty and then getting clean, he turned off the water, dried off, and slung a towel around his waist. He ran a hand over the lower half of his face, then fished in his travel bag for his electric shaver. Shaving was a tedious task, especially since he'd gone blind, and he often avoided it until Patrick started complaining about beard burn. Sometimes Patrick would even do it for him, which was always nice. Today, though, he definitely needed to be clean-shaven. Plus, he loved the way Patrick reacted to the smell of his after-shave. A smile made its way across Pete's face as he splashed it on, with this thought in mind.

His mom knocked on the door while he was brushing his teeth. “Peter? Are you up?”

“Yah,” Pete yawed around his toothbrush, then spit in the sink. “All showered, shaved, and minty fresh. Just gotta get dressed.”

“Alright. Let me know when you're ready for me,” she called through the door.

“OK, Mom,” Pete called as he made his way back to his room and the suit that hung in plastic on the back of the door.

He took the hanger down and carefully removed the plastic, then put the hanger back and ran his hands down the fabric. This was what he was going to wear to get fucking _married_. He couldn't believe it. He was going to marry his Beautiful Boy With The Golden Voice. This amazing, wonderful guy who could probably have anyone he wanted had chosen _Pete_. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, then took the suit off the hanger and set about getting dressed.

When he had everything on but the tie, he slung it around his neck and opened his door. “Mom?” he called with a tremor in his voice.

“Coming!” Dale sang as she trotted up the stairs. Pete backed out of the doorway and waited as she came in and immediately started tying his tie for him.”Oh, honey, you look very handsome.”

When she finished, she cupped his face in her hands. “Patrick is just wonderful, baby, and I'm so happy for you.” She kissed his cheek. “I'd hug you, but I don't want to rumple you!” They laughed. “I left your boutonniere downstairs, so, let's get you fed and then we'll put that on you, OK?”

“That's the little flower, right?” Pete asked.

Dale chuckled softly. “Yes, it is. And it's a pin, so there's no way I'm letting you do that one yourself. The last thing we need today is you bleeding on your beautiful suit.”

Pete put his hands on his stomach, where all the butterflies currently lived. “I don't know if food is the best idea right now.”

“Sweetie, don't tell me you're nervous. Are you getting cold feet?” Dale asked, her tone wary.

Pete laughed and shook his head. “No way, Mom. I love Patrick more than anything, and I totally wanna marry him, and for some strange reason he actually wants to marry me, too. I gotta make sure I bind him to me legally before he comes to his senses!”

Dale took Pete's shoulders. “Peter, don't even joke about that. Patrick loves you, as well he should. You're a good boy—” she stopped abruptly, clearing her throat, “—good man, and you two are perfect for each other.” She brushed the shoulders of his jacket with her hands and buttoned the front. “Now come on down to the kitchen and let me treat you like my baby one last time, OK?” Pete heard her voice cracking as she said this, and then her footsteps retreated away.

 _This is so not the last time she'll ever baby me, I'm sure,_ Pete thought with an affectionate smile, and headed downstairs.

Dale insisted Pete wear one of her aprons while he ate. As Pete discovered, Lucky Charms taste pretty damned good on your wedding day, even when your stomach is in knots with excitement.

_Why? Because I'm the luckiest guy on the planet today. Hey, I'm allowed to be corny. Not only am I King Cheese on a daily basis anyway, but today it goes triple._

Pete drained the bowl left it in the sink, then popped a piece of gum in his mouth because _milk breath, yuck,_ and sat at the island drumming his fingers nervously while Dale ostensibly was puttering around.

She put her hand over his and said, “I'm going to finish getting ready. We should be able to leave in about half an hour, OK?”

Pete nodded, then went back to drumming his fingers.

When the Wentz family arrived at the inn, they parked and ushered Pete to one side. While there was no danger of Pete seeing Patrick before the ceremony, of course, Patrick still wanted to wait (even though he helped him try the suit on, Pete had argued, so why did it matter, but Patrick had said that was so not the point! It's tradition! Patrick and his love for tradition... at a gay wedding...).

Pete let himself be posed and positioned for photos with his family and groomspeople, all the while his mind spinning with disbelief, excitement, and impatience.

He must have shown his displeasure somehow, because Dale kissed his cheek and said, “Relax, honey. You hopefully will only be doing this once, so let us soak it up, OK?”

Pete sighed and shifted his weight, then shook his shoulders, trying to roll the tension out of them. He let his head loll in a circle or two, then said, “Yeah, OK, Mom.”

Inside the inn, some random muzak played while Pete stood in his spot with his mother. As before, he was shifting from foot to foot, but he'd also added wringing his hands to the mix. Dale didn't bother trying to comfort him or stop the nervous actions, because they'd be normal on anyone, but they're especially normal on Pete Wentz.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Earlier that morning** _

“Rick! Rick, come on, dude, time to get up!” Kevin called as he kicked the mattress.

Patrick groaned and rolled over, hugging the pillow around his head.

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled.

Kevin kicked the bed again. “No can do, li'l bro. Come on, you don't wanna be late for your own wedding!”

“Maybe I do,” Patrick said as he sat up. His hair stuck out comically, and Kevin immediately pulled out his phone to capture a picture of the blushing groom with bedhead, rubbing his eyes with his fists like a five-year-old. When Patrick opened his eyes and realized what Kevin had done, Kevin laughed wildly and ducked a flying pillow as he fled the room.

“Mom! Rick's up!” Kevin called into the rest of the house after he was out the door.

Patrick heard his mother mutter, “Finally!” He stood up and stretched, scratching his belly. He heard footsteps approaching the door of his childhood room, and suddenly his eyes flew to his crotch, where the most prominent symptom of his decision to abstain in the week leading up to the wedding jutted out obscenely, tenting his boxers.

“Shit!” he whispered as he looked around frantically, trying to find his pajama bottoms, as though that would help, somehow. When he didn't immediately spot them, he jumped back under the covers, sitting with his knees up.

Patricia leaned in the doorframe. “Well, well, Sleeping Beauty, finally decided to join the land of the living, I see?” she said with a fond smile.

Patrick cleared his throat and said, “Uh, yeah.” His voice may or may not have cracked.

“Well, I won't crowd you, don't worry. I just... wanted one last glance of my boy in his old bed.” Her eyes glistened as she spoke.

“Mom,” Patrick groaned, rolling his eyes fondly.

She laughed. “Yep, there's my boy, alright. OK, I'm going. Get up and get decent. We don't want to be late.” She turned away, and Patrick made to get out of bed with a relieved sigh, but shrank back again, trying to look natural when Patricia turned back again. “Well, _I_ don't want to be late. One could assume you love it, based on your track record.”

Patrick gave an uncomfortable chuckle, then stayed still and kept looking at his mother long after it faded.

Patricia blinked, seeming to come back to herself, and said, “Oh, right, yes. Wedding. OK, I'm going.” And with that, she finally left, closing the door behind her ever-so-kindly.

He stood, finally, grabbing his overnight bag and holding it carefully in front of himself as he slowly opened the door. He craned his head around, seeing no one in the hallway, and ducked to the bathroom without incident. Once the hot water was running, Patrick undressed, hissing at the way his boxers caught on his erection.

 _Whose bright idea was this waiting thing? Oh, right, mine,_ he thought.

He stepped under the spray, gasping at the feel of it running down his body. Everything felt too sensitive, tingling all over, as he gripped himself and let his mind drift to Pete, with his beautiful, sleek body, dark skin, bright smile, unbelievable words and brave heart...

_My Pete._

At this thought, he bit his lip and came hard all over his hand.

Patrick still couldn't believe his luck. He had his dream job, great friends, and his dream guy on top of it. He knew Pete thought of himself as a burden; he half-joked all the time about how he thought Patrick could do better. Then, of course, there was the whole fiasco right before Patrick proposed... God, he'd never thought about how badly he could hurt someone until Pete just... broke down that way. Patrick had never thought anyone would get so worked up over him. That moment, when he heard Pete sobbing and falling apart on the sofa over him, Patrick had finally known the power Pete had given him, the way Pete had completely and utterly surrendered, and trusted him. In a weird way, that was the first time it had really hit Patrick how much Pete loved him, instead of always seeing it the other way around.

And God, did he love Pete. Loved his fearlessness, his openness with everyone, loved his goofy sense of humor and his passion... Patrick felt his eyes watering as he rinsed the soap off of him at the thought that he was going to get to spend the rest of his life with his best friend and best love.

 _I'm the luckiest guy in the world_ , he thought as he dried himself off, humming a happy tune. He chuckled to himself when he realized it was "It's Not a Side Effect".

Once Patrick was back in his room, he gazed at the suit, running his hands over the fabric. As he pulled the gorgeous ensemble on and looked at himself in the mirror, he really wished for the first time that Pete could see him. Patrick had never been crazy about the way he looked, but he was struck with the certainty, in this moment, that if he saw him, Pete would see something worth looking at.

Pete was kind of... magical like that. He made people _believe_.

A knock at his door startled him out of his thoughts. “Rick? Honey?” It was Patricia. “Can I come in?”

Patrick started fussing with his tie and said, “Sure, Mom.”

She opened the door and seemed a little disappointed at her son tying his own tie, but then she cheerily held up the box with the boutonniere in it. “Here, at least I can help you with this.”

Patrick turned to her and let his arms hang at his sides. She adjusted his tie a bit, buttoned his jacket for him, and then set to pinning on the boutonniere. When she finished, she took both of her son's hands in hers. “Look at you. I can't believe this day is here so soon.” Her expression was a mixture of loving and sad. “You've grown up so fast.”

He brought his hands up between them and held them. “I know you're scared, Mom, and I know you worry I'm not ready, or that I'm too young, or all of the above. I swear, though, I am ready to marry Pete and have a life with him. I mean, I already have a life with him, and I help look after  
him when he needs it, and y'know, whatever. I just... I love him so much, and he's given me so much, and... and...”

Patricia shook her head. “I'm fine, sweetie, really. And I know. Don't you worry.” She smiled a little and kissed his cheek, then went downstairs.

Patrick sighed and took one last look in the mirror. He tugged on the bottom of his blazer, then went down behind her.

******

Patrick tried not to look around too much when he and his family pulled up to the inn, for fear of spotting Pete in the crowd of people milling around. Pete was kind of hard to miss.

David sighed. "Would you relax, son? Didn't you say you've seen him in his suit already, anyway?"

"Yeah, Dad. I just... nevermind. I'm just, like, I wanna wait to see him until it's time, OK? Just let me have my weird superstition." His hands were shaking in his lap and Megan grabbed them.

"Rick, calm down. This is kind of a sure thing, you know? Pete's nuts about you!" She grinned at her brother.

He slung an arm around her and said, "I know, I know. I'm just.... excited, I guess. This is a big deal. I just want things to go right."

"Don't ever expect that," Patricia warned. "Something always goes wrong, from forgetting the rings to tripping over your feet. Nothing is perfect, not even your wedding day, so just be ready to laugh along and not try to control everything."

"Mom, since when has Rick been able to not control everything?" Kevin said, elbowing Patrick.

Megan giggled. "Like, never," she said.

They struggled through the family photos, then the groomspeople. Patrick's increasing inability to stay still was wearing on the photographer and his mother. He just wanted to get to the good part, where he was looking at Pete and holding his hands, and then finally getting to kiss his husband...

_MY HUSBAND OH MY GOD_

"Rick?!" Patricia said impatiently. "Get over next to your sister, please?" Patrick obliged with a sigh.

******

When they brought him inside and had him wait in an anteroom, he paced nervously, listening to the banal instrumental music wafting through the place.

 _Can we just get ON with this? He thought. Whose idea was all this fucking pomp and circumstance? Oh right, mine._ He chuckled to himself nervously and continued to pace.


	3. Chapter 3

Pete paced in his little room as much as he could, while Dale made sure he didn't crash into anything. He could hear the low shush and murmur of guests milling in and chatting as the infuriatingly tedious muzak continued. It was a song he knew—hell, he'd chosen it—but he couldn't place it right now, through the closed door, and it was positively maddening.

Finally, his mother's hands came down on his shoulders. “Peter,” she said firmly, “stop. Everything is going to be fine. Take a deep breath and try to relax. This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life!”

Pete did as he was told, heaving his shoulders up and down and closing his eyes for a moment. He opened them and said, “I know, Mom, and it is, but really, I just want to do it. I want to marry Patrick, and I just... I don't want to wait anymore. Like, not one single, solitary second and I...” he trailed off. “I love him so much, Mom.”

Dale collected her son in a hug. “That's the best thing I think I have ever heard you say, Peter. And it won't be long now.”

As if on cue, the Wedding March started to play and the door opened from the outside.

“Come on, baby, it's time,” Dale said, taking Pete's arm and walking with him.

******

“Rick? Are you ready?” Patricia said, taking her son's elbow.

Patrick nodded eagerly. “Yeah, Mom. More than.”

When they got outside his anteroom, Patrick's heart leapt into his throat at the sight of Pete coming across the back of the room on Dale's arm. Yeah, he'd seen the suit on him, but this was different. The Wedding March— _their_ Wedding March—was echoing through the hall, and Pete was standing tall and happy, with his hair flat-ironed perfectly and his eyes ringed expertly (how he did it without being able to see, Patrick would never know). His smile could dim the sun by comparison. Pete on his wedding day was, without a doubt, the most beautiful person Patrick had ever seen.

 _And I get to marry him!_ his mind screamed like a child.

******

Pete heard the shuffle of everyone standing up as he and Dale made their way to the aisle. His mother's scent lingered in his nose, comforting and familiar, and her grip on his arm was sure and strong. He stopped when she did, then felt her kiss his cheek and take his hand, and he knew Patricia was doing the same to Patrick not three feet from him.  
Then his hand was joined with Patrick's, and Patrick gave a gentle squeeze before they linked arms and waited for their mothers to walk down the aisle and take their seats.  
Patrick's elbow wiggled a bit, and Pete knew it was time. He knew he was smiling obnoxiously, his face almost ached with it, but he couldn't help it. Trading the scent of his mother for the vanilla sugar smell of Patrick's skin felt normal, natural, like coming home. He wished he could see the faces of their friends and family watching them walk down the aisle together, see his own happiness hopefully reflected in their faces.

_I wish I could see Patrick._

Pete felt his eyes sting at the thought, and blinked a couple of times to try and shake it off. He couldn't ruin his face today, of all days, even if the world would probably forgive him.

******

Patrick looked out at the sea of faces smiling grandly back at him as he walked proudly, maybe for the first time in his life. He _was_ fucking proud of himself, how far he'd come, and the man he was marrying. He heard Pete's breath hitch a little, and he blinked back tears of his own. Patricia was looking at him with what he knew was a mixture of love, pride, and concern. They'd had no shortage of conversations about how big a deal this was, and did Patrick really know what he was getting into, marrying so young, marrying a blind man, marrying a man with Pete's psychiatric issues (as much as we love him, of course, she'd reassured him), and trying to balance all that with budding rock stardom?

_Yes, yes, Mom, I know what I'm doing, and every fiber in my being is humming to do this now. I need this. I need to have Pete with me forever, like I need to breathe._

When they reached the front of the hall, Patrick stopped, and then Pete stopped, and turned toward Patrick so he could take both of his hands. On impulse, Patrick let go with one hand and lifted it to Pete's cheek, cradling it and subtly directing his gaze on him. Pete put his hand over Patrick's, then clasped it in his own with a soft chuckle and let their hands hang, linked, between them.

 _I love you_ , Pete mouthed. Patrick smiled dreamily and almost, almost did it back, but instead gave Pete's hands an extra squeeze.

******

“Dearly beloved family and friends, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Patrick Martin Vaughn Stumph and Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the Third, better known to all of you as, simply, 'Patrick' and 'Pete'.” The Justice of the Peace went into a beautiful speech about a life founded on art, music, passion, and love, but Pete and Patrick didn't hear a word of it. Patrick gazed at Pete's face, saw the tick of the pulse point in his neck, his favorite place to kiss. He saw the matching tempo pounding under Pete's tie, and wondered if his own heartbeat was rocking his whole body like it seemed, and if Pete could feel it. Pete's face looked... coiled, almost tense, like he was simply awaiting a cue, which he basically was. Patrick understood. He wanted to do this, to have Pete married to him now.

“And do you, Patrick, stand here today of your own free will, and take Pete to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, to love, honor, and cherish, forsaking all others, until death parts you?”

Patrick couldn't bite it back anymore. His eyes swam and tears rolled down his cheeks as he choked out, “I do.”

At the sound, Pete felt his eyes burning, prickling and brimming with tears of his own. _Oh, hell,_ he thought as they started to fall.

“And do you, Pete, stand here today of your own free will, and take Patrick to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, to love, honor, and cherish, forsaking all others, until death parts you?”

His voice wavered a little when he said, “Oh hell yes I do.”

There was a ripple of laughter through the crowd.

“May we have the rings, please?” the JP asked. Kevin and Andrew shoved the plain, white-gold bands into Patrick and Pete's hands, respectively. “The grooms have prepared their own vows, and will say them now.”

Patrick and Pete both reached for the other's left hand at said the other's name to begin at the same time, causing another bout of laughter. Patrick rubbed Pete's shoulder and said with a tremor in his voice, “Age before beauty?” Everyone laughed again.

Pete laughed and said, “You get a pass for that one today.” He cleared his throat, and took Patrick's outstretched left hand. “Um, Oh, God, uh, Patrick...” he trailed off, trying to line the ring up with Patrick's finger while both of them had trembling hands. When he finally slid it home, he cleared his throat and took Patrick's hands in his. “OK. Um, Patrick, I've basically loved you since the first time I heard your voice outside my window. I knew you were gonna be the key to making all my dreams come true, but I was thinking about my, like, professional dreams, you know, making music and stuff. What I didn't count on, though...” he sniffled and went on, “what I didn't know was how you were gonna make dreams come true for me that I'd forgotten I even had. I love you so much, and I cannot wait to start being your husband, and I'm putting this ring on your  
finger so everyone knows that making you happy is my job and I want it forever.”

Patrick took Pete's left hand and slid the ring on, then clutched their hands between them again and said, “Pete, um, I, uh, I'm not very good at stuff like this. You've always been the wordsmith, but... um, I had no idea I could have the kind of connection with anyone, like what we have. I mean, I feel like, like I've known you my whole life, and like, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be and with exactly who I'm supposed to be with, and... and... I mean, uh... God, Pete, I know I've said this before, but, you're the bravest and most beautiful person I've ever known, and... I love you, Pete, and I'm putting this ring on your finger so everyone can see that you make me feel brave, and yeah sometimes even kinda beautiful, too. I've never felt like that before, and I never, ever want to lose it.”

Pete swallowed thickly and loudly, chasing it with an uncontrollable whimper as he ran a thumb carefully under his eyes. He heard Patrick sniffling and felt the movement of him wiping his eyes with one hand, then grabbing hold again.

“Ladies and gentlemen, now that these two young men have promised themselves to each other in the presence of all of you, and have sealed that promise with the giving and receiving of rings, by the power vested in me by the state of Illinois, I pronounce to them and to you all that they are now husbands. Pete, Patrick, I know you've been waiting for this. You may now kiss each other.”

Patrick loosed a strangled yelp as Pete swooped his husband into his arms, then tilted him and kissed him, bowed down low in front of everyone, as they all broke into thundering applause and cheering.

It was better than any show they'd ever played.


	4. Chapter 4

The wedding party and parents were introduced in pairs and came bopping into the reception hall, then crowded on one side of the dance floor, jumping and swaying to the booming dance music that accompanied their entrance. Even Joe and Andy were grooving in their awkward way, though they were notorious non-dancers.

Then, the music stopped and the DJ said, “And now, for the first time, the happy husbands: Patrick Stumph and Pete Wentz!”

“September” by Earth, Wind, and Fire came on as the grooms came tangoing in (a convenient way to lead Pete in). Pete stood straight up and raised one arm over his head as Patrick spun gracefully around him. Everyone leapt up and started cheering and clapping uproariously. Patrick stopped at Pete’s side and took his hand as the song changed, then walked backward as he led Pete to the middle of the now-empty floor.

As Pete and Patrick began to sway, “The Luckiest” by Ben Folds began playing—the song Patrick had sung outside Pete’s window for their four-month anniversary. It seemed like a lifetime ago and yesterday, all at the same time.

Pete could feel Patrick’s heart beating against his chest, and was confident Patrick could feel his, too. Patrick’s hand was firm and sure on the small of Pete’s back, and the fingers of his other hand intertwined effortlessly with Pete’s. Pete closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek against Patrick’s, taking in that sweet scent that always lingered on Patrick’s skin, and feeling the rub of Patrick’s wedding band against his fingers.

“I love you so much,” Pete whispered as they moved back and forth.

Patrick gave a small, contented sigh. “I love you, too, Pete. Always.” Then, he made a low growling noise and said, “God, I can’t wait to be alone with you.”

Pete realized his breath was hitting Patrick’s ear, which always was an easy way to drive Patrick wild. He buried his face in one of Patrick’s shoulders while he wrapped his arm around his neck and held on tight. Patrick was humming lightly, and Pete could feel the vibrations all over.

“Me, neither,” Pete mumbled. “This is the best day of my life.”

Patrick’s hand at the small of Pete’s back pressed a little tighter, and they both loosed a sigh.

******

Andrew and Kevin gave their best man speeches, each offering embarrassing stories of Pete and Patrick’s lives, reliving Patrick’s sled accident and the time Pete jumped off his roof carrying a patio umbrella. Everyone laughed and wished the happy grooms well, and then the DJ invited anyone else who wanted to say something up to the microphone.  
Patrick blanched just a bit when he saw Patricia stand and make her way over. His grip on Pete’s hand got just a little tighter, and Pete responded in kind.

“Um,” Patricia began, and cleared her throat. Patrick practically held his breath. “Um, so, uh, Patrick is my youngest boy, and I love him with all my heart. And I love Pete, too, very, very much. I think he’s a wonderful man, and I know he and Patrick are very much in love. That said, I can’t say I didn’t have my reservations about this happening now, for a lot of reasons—the main one being that Patrick is only twenty.” She paused, and the room was dead silent. “Well, I did, but the last of them were gone this morning when we got here. I watched Patrick pace his room before the ceremony, and I figured it was just jitters. Anyone else would have been nervous. Not my Patrick. He looked at me and said he wanted the wedding to happen sooner, to have Pete as his husband right then. And that’s when the reality of it hit me. Patrick wasn’t afraid in the slightest. He knew he was making the right choice for himself, and well, if he’s not afraid, I won’t be either. So, Pete, I know Patrick will take good care of you, and I am trusting you to take good care of my baby, too, even when he says he doesn’t need it, which he will, all the time.” She laughed thickly through tears. “I love you both, and I know you two will have nothing but the best of years together.” She raised her glass, and everyone else did too and said cheers. Pete leaned on Patrick’s shoulder and Patrick’s head tilted onto Pete’s. A natural movement.

After Patricia sat down, Dale stood up and went to the microphone. “Patricia, it’s so funny that you say that. I never had any doubts about Pete marrying Patrick until I saw Pete pacing in the anteroom this morning. I thought maybe he was finally nervous. I mean, he joked earlier today about wanting to bind Patrick to him legally before the poor boy came to his senses.” There was a smattering of laughter. “But he looked at me and said almost exactly the same thing Patrick said. He wanted it done right then, he didn’t want to wait one more single, solitary second to have Patrick as his husband. I told him it was the best thing I’d ever heard him say, and it’s the best thing anyone can say on their wedding day. Not ‘Is this the right dress’ or ‘are the flowers the right color’ or ‘the photographer had better be on time’. None of that. Neither of them cared about  
the particulars of the day.”

Kevin hollered, “Well, Patrick the control freak kinda did!” Patrick elbowed him, and everyone laughed.”

Dale went on, “Yes, I’m sure on some level he did. But the thing they both obviously wanted, more than anything, was each other. To be married. And to me, that’s the best reason to be here. Not the ceremony or the trappings. It’s for love. These two men love each other more than anything else in the world, and they want to share that with us. And I’m… so moved and so happy for them. Pete, baby, I love you, and I love Patrick, and I hope you take the feeling you have today into the rest of your lives.” Glasses were raised yet again, more calls of _cheers_ , and more applause.

Joe and Andy shared a glance and then made their way up together.

“So you guys probably know we’re the other half of our band, Fall Out Boy,” Joe began. “Uh, we’ve both known Pete for a long time, and the fact that he kept going after he went blind is no surprise to us, or probably anyone who knows him. He’s kind of determined and single-minded that way.”

“His bass playing is actually better, if you can believe that,” Andy cut in. A wave of laughter.

“That’s because Patrick taught me!” Pete hollered.

“Well,” Andy went on, “that focus was no different when it came to Patrick. From the minute he heard Patrick sing, not even knowing who he was, Pete knew instantly he had to meet him, because he just, like, knew, somehow, from that moment, that Patrick was it for him. And when he introduced Patrick to me, I felt it instantly. It was like something just, kinda, clicked into place right away. And I know Joe felt it, too when he met him.”

Joe nodded. “Anyway, the whole thing is, as we’ve established, Pete jumping off a roof holding nothing but an umbrella is kind of a metaphor for Pete himself. When he believes in something, or someone, he really fu—sorry, he really, really believes without even a shadow of a doubt, and just throws himself into it. Patrick was no different. And Andy and I have both said that that’s what makes the band so great. Not only that we’re friends, but Pete’s passion for it makes it more fun. And I know that will make his marriage more fun too. And, like usually he’s right, you know? But he’s never been more right than he was about Patrick. Like, for the band, yeah, because Patrick’s probably the best songwriter and singer I’ve ever worked with.” Andy nodded in agreement now. “But also, like, for himself. Like, they complement each other better than probably any two people, like, ever. And Pete just knew it right away, the way he just seems to, like, know so many things. Like he’s psychic or something. It’s kinda creepy.”

Everyone laughed, and Andy elbowed Joe and said, “Dude, you’re babbling.”

Joe chuckled with everyone and said, “Yeah. Anyway, we’re super psyched for you guys and we can’t wait to keep going with everything that’s waiting in the future for us. You guys are awesome, and you’re awesome together.”

Then they both leaned in together and said, “We love you.”

The crowd all said a collective _awwwwwwww_ and Pete smiled widely as Patrick took Pete’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. Suddenly, inspiration struck and he nudged Patrick so he could stand up. Patrick stood with him and whispered, “Do you need me to help you?”

Pete paused and blinked, then said softly, “Actually, I just want you to come with me anyway.”

Patrick kissed his temple and took his hand, and they walked up to the mic together.

“Hey everyone,” Pete said with a huge grin. “Uh, I can’t thank you enough for being here today to celebrate with us. This is totally, like, the happiest day of my life, and I am so excited to be married to the greatest human being ever. My Patrick.” Patrick felt his face flush as everyone cooed and clapped. “Uh, like Andy said, I do have this reputation for kinda not really looking before I leap. Um, but that’s why I’m glad I have Patrick. Joe nailed it: Patrick is my complement. He keeps me grounded and keeps me safe, and if what he said is true, I like to think I make him believe in himself more, because he’s just… amazing, and smart and kind and talented and… just… he’s… I can’t believe how lucky I am that I get to be married to him. Anyway, uh, thanks for coming today. Like, again.”

Everyone clapped as Pete and Patrick shared a warm hug. Then, the chorus of silverware on glasses rose in the room and they laughed as Patrick pulled back, took Pete’s face in both his hands, and kissed him fiercely and passionately. Pete felt his pulse accelerate at the feel of Patrick’s mouth on his, and put a hand to the back of Patrick’s neck as everyone whooped and hollered encouragement. Patrick pulled back and pressed their foreheads together.

“GET A ROOM!” Someone hollered. Patrick thought he recognized it as one of his cousins.

He leaned into the mic and said, “Oh we will, just as soon as we get to finish partying with everyone.”

They made the rounds to everyone’s tables, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries. Pete rolled his eyes when Grandma Lewis complained about the beef being overdone, but everyone else only had nice things to say. They danced, they shouted and sang from the top of their lungs, and they hugged and kissed just about everyone they ever knew. They kept the drinking to just the champagne, because they agreed they wanted to remember the night and not ruin their time alone.

All in all, it was a perfect day. Anyone else would have been worn out by the end of it, but Pete and Patrick were tingling, energized, and ready.

"I love you," Pete said as they rode off in the getaway car.

"I love you, too," Patrick said, leaning on Pete's shoulder.


	5. Chapter 5

As they rode back to the apartment, Pete could feel Patrick's pulse quickening and his breath becoming heavier as they leaned on each other. The scent on his skin was changing, too, getting muskier and losing the usual sweetness. Patrick was, in short, horny as fuck, and Pete could tell.

Pete started tracing lazy circles on Patrick's thigh, making them slightly bigger each time, as he lifted his head and just lightly flicked Patrick's earlobe with his tongue.  
“I want you so bad, baby,” he whispered.

Patrick whimpered and slapped a hand down over Pete's on his thigh. “If you want me to make it until we get home, you'd better stop that.” His voice was gasping and breathy as he spoke, and Pete felt himself harden the rest of the way at the sound, now that the theatrics and distractions of the wedding reception were gone. He clenched his fist against Patrick's leg and let his head fall back down, grinning at the thought of Patrick finally being entirely his to play with, fight with, and fuck with until the end of time.

 _Oh, God,_ he thought as everything throbbed between his legs, _I'd better calm down, too, or I won't make it, either._

The second they got inside the door, Patrick shoved Pete against it and kissed him ferociously. “God, Pete, I... I can't believe you're mine.”

Pete sighed as he trailed kisses down Patrick's neck. “Say it again,” he mumbled softly into Patrick's skin.

Patrick loosened his tie, unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt, then cradled the back of Pete's head and growled, “Mine.”

Pete made another pleased little noise and murmured, “Yeah, I'm yours, Patrick,” as he slipped his hands under Patrick's jacket, running them over Patrick's body, burning hot through his shirt. He trailed one hand down to Patrick's knee, then back up the inside of his thigh while Patrick's hips rutted helplessly, seeking contact.

“Pete,” Patrick keened, feeling like there was a searing, tingling trail being left by Pete's hands all over his skin. “Pete, God... oh, oh fuck...” His cries gained urgency as Pete let his hand stop at Patrick's dick and palm it gently. He thrust up once and suddenly loosed a choked, “Oh, Pete, baby, ohGodJesusFuck, ohhhhhhhh...” as he came in his pants like a teenager (which he hadn't been for a few months, mind you). His whole body jerked as he came down, hugging himself against Pete's shoulder as his face filled with heat and  
color. He pulled back, still panting a little, and inspected the crotch of his dress pants. “Oh, shit, I can't believe this. Pete, I'm sorry.”

Pete threw his head back and laughed, cracking it on the door. He gave a short yelp, then said, “Oh, my God, 'Trick, don't be sorry. You came from me touching you once! Do you have any idea how hot that is?”

“But... I really wanted to fuck you. This sucks,” Patrick grumbled.

Pete untied his tie, then took Patrick's from around his neck, and placed them both in Patrick's hands. “Well, I guess maybe this means you'll have to entertain yourself somehow until you get hard again?” he asked mischievously, smirking and cocking one eyebrow.

After a beat, Patrick took Pete's wrist and said, low and playful, “Well, just twist my arm, why don't you?”

Pete deftly turned himself around so his chest was against the door, and raised his wrist in Patrick's hand up between his shoulder blades and said, “Well, maybe you'd like to twist my arm, instead... Sir?” He sighed as he felt Patrick's grip tighten and the delicious weight of that sturdy little body press up against his back.

“Hmmm, sounds like a plan. You wanna be good for me?”

Pete was still achingly hard, and he found himself thrusting against the door and pushing back against Patrick as he gasped, “Yes, Sir. I want to. Make me, please?”

Patrick took Pete by the wrist and opposing shoulder and turned them around so Pete was in front of them. “Bedroom,” he said, his voice full of authority, giving Pete's body an emphatic shake.

Pete nodded, his thoughts already starting to swim as he started walking with Patrick guiding from behind. When they got into the bedroom, Patrick stopped him and took his hands off of him. He made a small, displeased whine, physically tingling where Patrick's hands had been.

“Take your jacket off,” Patrick said. Pete scrambled to do as he was told, but Patrick said, “Wait.” Pete froze with one shoulder shrugged off. “Slowly, please.” Pete nodded and took one hand to the jacket shoulder and began sliding it slower. When his jacket was off, he paused, then heard Patrick say, “Go on, you know you want to keep going.” Pete began unbuttoning his shirt, counting out a beat or two between each button and then trailing a lazy hand down his body once it was open. “Hmmm, yeah,” Patrick said, circling around him. “You're so beautiful, Pete.” He unbuttoned his cuffs and slid his shirt off, and immediately Patrick's hands were on his shoulders, then sliding gently down his arms. “So beautiful.” Pete shivered at the compliment even more than at the soft, sensual way Patrick's hands roamed up and down his back, chest, and belly, stopping to rest right over the Bartskull and pulling Pete backward against him.

Patrick's whole body was hot where it met Pete's, and both men sighed at the feel. Patrick licked a trail up the shell of Pete's ear, then closed his mouth over the junction of his neck and shoulder, sucking firmly and nibbling with his teeth. Pete gasped and whimpered as his hands clutched open and shut weakly at his sides.

Then, that golden voice was in Pete's ear. “I don't remember telling you to stop undressing,”

"Sorry, Sir,” Pete managed as he went to work opening his pants and shucking them off with his underwear in one motion.

Patrick took off his own clothes, not really wanting to spend the next however-long in wet, sticky pants, despite his usual tendency to stay clothed when they played like this.

Once he was naked, too, he walked another predatory circle around Pete, like he loved doing, and took in the sight of him.

Pete's hands were folded behind his back, his head bowed, and his pretty cock was full and blood-dark, darker even than the rest of his skin, and bobbing heavily from his body. His nipples were rock-hard, which made the nipple ring stand out even more. Patrick licked his lips as he felt his second wind come over him, just from watching Pete's hips and knees tremble. There was a long pause, where Patrick just stared in awe at the complete and utter beauty of his husband.

Pete, not knowing why Patrick wasn't speaking, or touching him, or anything, suddenly let a questioning look cross his face and his hands moved from behind him to in front of him. It was the first openly self-conscious move Patrick could remember seeing Pete make in all the time he'd known him. His heart suddenly seized in his chest, making everything between his belly and his knees tighten uncontrollably, and he just said, “Fuck it.”

He took Pete in his arms and pressed their mouths together fervently. Pete blinked a couple of times in surprise before bringing his hands up to Patrick's shoulders and kissing him back with just as much force. Patrick put a hand to the side of Pete's head as he felt his face crumpling with emotion and new tears spilling. “Pete, Pete, God, I love you,” he said between kisses. “You're my husband and I can't believe you're really fucking mine forever.”

“Patrick...” Pete said, his voice gravelly. “But... I... I thought...”

“IknowIknowIknow,” Patrick murmured as he kissed all over Pete's face. “I'll tie you up, whatever you want, but goddammit I cannot hold back and be all... like, cool and collected or whatever. Not tonight. I need you, Pete.” Patrick pulled Pete tight against him, making their cocks rub together. The sensation shot through both of them, and they started grinding against each other, hands roaming everywhere they could reach.

Pete had never known Patrick to be this open and unguarded with his feelings before. Pete was usually the one with his heart on his sleeve, but here Patrick was, baring himself in a way he hadn't really before, not to this level. Pete's heart swelled at the feel of Patrick's passionate kisses, his loving embrace, and the sheer, ugly, messy need in his voice.  
“I need you, too, Patrick. Always need you.” Pete buried his face in Patrick's neck, sucking deep kisses all along the sweat-soaked skin there while Patrick leaned his head back and let one hand find its way to Pete's nipple ring. Pete moaned as he ran his tongue up to that secret erogenous zone Patrick had directly under the jut of his chin, chasing it with his lips over the point there.

Patrick's breath hitched and suddenly he said, “I want you to lie down on your back, Pete.” He guided him eagerly, a little more quickly than usual, so that Pete was lying with his arms over his head and legs open. He found their ties, discarded on the floor, and brought Pete's hands to the headboard. Pete gasped and his whole body arched a little when Patrick gently kissed the inside of each wrist before binding them. From there, Patrick kissed the wedding band on his finger, then slowly trailed kisses along Pete's arms to his neck, then down his chest, letting his tongue trace the thorns around his collar, circling his nipples, and trailing down Pete's burning, fevered skin as Pete writhed under him, mouth open and wet, crying his husband's name out and begging incoherently for more, for anything, for Patrick.

Pete was awash in sensations and emotions. Everything was gone except Patrick's hands, Patrick's mouth on him, his voice encircling him. Every kiss, every touch felt white-hot on his skin, like he was being branded. His cock was in agony, he'd been so hard for so long. He needed Patrick inside him more than he needed air, needed to feel himself give under Patrick's weight and warmth. Pete was craving it, and he was sure he was babbling incoherently, trying to tell Patrick all of it at the same time, and not managing much more than nonsense.

Patrick moved around that one spot where Pete wanted attention most and worked his way down Pete's hips, thighs, the inside of his knees, down his calves, even to his ankles and the tops of his feet, needing to touch and experience every inch of him. From there, Patrick maneuvered Pete's ankles onto his shoulders and slid back upward to graze his nose and lips over Pete's erection, drawing a broken sob from him. He coated his fingers with lube and slid two inside of Pete right away, making Pete moan and thrust even harder.

It was too much, and not enough. “God, yes, Patrick, please,” he begged breathlessly.

“Yeah, Pete, I got you,” Patrick said, slicking himself up and, still keeping Pete's legs up over his shoulders, lined up and pushed in. Almost immediately, Patrick bottomed out, hitting Pete's prostate, and Pete screamed at the jolt of intense pleasure.

Patrick started moving, a little slowly, but he said, “You're close, aren't you? You're hanging on?”

Pete nodded, spilling more needy sounds and words from his mouth. Patrick released his ankles so he could lean down to kiss him, and once he did, he said, “You can come whenever you want, baby. Whenever you want.” His voice broke on that last word as he picked up speed and started thrusting harder, feeling his own release building. “Go on, Pete, you can.”

Pete didn't right away, so Patrick reached down with his slicked hand and grabbed Pete's cock, giving only one good stroke before Pete's entire body clamped down and tightened impossibly, squeezing Patrick inside him and making him give a startled wail as his release hit him with the force of a tidal wave. They came together, Pete releasing hot and thick over his belly with a frantic cry while Patrick bent Pete back upward a little, pushing himself as far inside as he could and milking both of their orgasms for every single second, every sound and sensation, so they were no longer sure where one stopped and the other started.

Once Patrick came down a little, he opened his eyes, and felt them aching from squinting shut, and gently slid himself out. Pete whimpered at the loss as Patrick set his hips back down on the mattress. He kissed Pete's cheekbone and said, “I'll be right back, love.” Pete made a sound that could only be described as a purr, and Patrick chuckled softly as he went to the bathroom on wobbly legs. He staggered back after a minute with a washcloth to clean Pete off, then himself and the bedspread as best he could. He untied the ties and moved Pete's arms carefully down to his sides, relishing the moan Pete gave as the circulation returned.

“Clothes?” Patrick said softly. Pete shook his head. Patrick smiled and said, “OK, well I'm gonna put something on.” Pete nodded with a lazy, almost drunken smile on his face as his eyes drooped shut.

By the time Patrick was dressed and climbing under the covers beside him, Pete was already half asleep. He naturally scooted up beside Patrick, head on his shoulder, while Patrick put an arm around Pete and laced their fingers over his heart. Their customary position.

“Mine,” Pete mumbled sleepily against Patrick's shirt. “My husband.”

“I am,” Patrick said softly into Pete's hair. “Always.”

Patrick set the alarm on his phone so they could catch their flight for their honeymoon the next day, and then let his eyes slip closed and drifted off, Pete already asleep in his arms.


	6. Chapter 6

Pete awoke to total darkness, strange smells, and a sense of being untethered somewhere unknown. He was shivering, and his hair was matted to his head. He reached his hand out beside him and felt nothing. He immediately panicked and started crying.

“Patrick? Patrick?” he cried, his voice getting more frantic. “Oh, God, PATRICK!” He put his free hand to his face and crumbled into sobs.

Patrick emerged from the bathroom, still tying the waist of his pants. “Pete?! Oh God, Pete, what happened?” He ran to the bed and immediately collected Pete against him, wrapping his arms around his shaking husband. “Pete, it’s alright. What happened, Baby?”

They were on the first night of their honeymoon in Dublin, and wouldn’t it figure Pete would have a nightmare and then wake up in a strange place without his husband right there, just in the few minutes Patrick had gotten up to pee.

Pete gulped in air, sniffling against Patrick’s chest. “They… th-they said, they said you left… that you… you were g-g-gone, and, and I, and…” he stammered.

“Hey, hey, shhhhhh,” Patrick soothed, rocking back and forth and smoothing Pete’s sweaty hair. “I need you to take a deep breath. Who said it?”

“M-my mom, and… and my doctor… they, th-they said…” Pete gulped hard, then went on, “They told me you were gone, and I was imagining you, imagining that we were married, and… and…”

Patrick kissed Pete’s head and rubbed his shoulder. “Baby, shhhh…”

“And I couldn’t see.”

“What?” Patrick said, pulling back to look into Pete’s face. “I don’t understand.”

“Well, usually, in my dreams, I can see. Like before. But this time, I couldn’t see and I could just hear them saying that… that you weren’t there anymore, and I don’t know if you ever were, and… and I…” Pete trailed off as he started crying again against Patrick’s shirt. “Oh, God, Patrick, I’m so scared. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

“Shhhhhh, shhhh,” Patrick hushed, continuing to rock and stroke Pete’s head and shoulders. “I’m sorry you had such a terrible nightmare. I’m so sorry. I’m right here, I’m still your husband, and I’m not going anywhere. I promise. You know, again,” he said with a weak laugh, fiddling with Pete’s wedding band. He kissed Pete’s temple. “I promise, Pete. I’m always going to be here. Always yours.”

Pete had finally stopped shaking, and his breathing evened out a little. Just as Patrick was starting to feel the moment defusing, Pete said, “I want kids, Patrick.”

Patrick blinked slowly a few times before saying, “What?”

“Chil-dren. I want to adopt them,” Pete said, sounding it out carefully. “I thought you did, too.”

He traced absent circles on Patrick’s arm as he spoke.

Patrick sighed. “I do. We talked about this, if you recall, and we agreed to wait a year or two, since we’re still really young and just starting out.”

Pete shrugged. “Don’t know if I want to wait.”

Patrick turned this over in his mind for a minute or two, then began. “Pete,” Patrick said gently, “I want kids, too. I really do… but I think you know as well as I do that we’re not ready to be parents right now. But I’ll tell you, when we are, those kids are gonna be the luckiest ever, because you’re gonna be a fantastic father. No kids will ever feel as loved as yours. But… not now. Right?”

Pete nodded and sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Baby. I know you’re scared right this second. Like, freaked the fuck out over losing… what we have, so soon. And anyone else would react the exact opposite of what you’re saying. But you… you’re the only person I know who wants to increase the ways to, like, give and receive love. You seem like you wanna surround yourself with it. My wonderful Pete and his big heart.” He hugged Pete tighter against him and kissed his head again. “I love you.”

Pete huddled closer against Patrick’s chest and said, “I love you, too.” After a minute where they both were silent, Pete said, “Patrick? Would you, um… uh…”

Knowing what he wanted, Patrick smiled. “Of course. Come on, lie down with me.”

They positioned themselves in their customary way, with Patrick on his back and one arm curled around Pete, who was huddled into Patrick’s side with his head on his shoulder. Their free hands were linked over Patrick’s heart. After a few seconds, Patrick began to sing, low and soft:

_There must be something more to us than you and me_   
_It must be tangled up somehow with destiny_   
_I used to think that the sum of one and one was two_   
_But we add up to more, me and you_   
_When we are close together, it’s so plain to see_   
_Together we are better than we used to be_   
_I don’t know how to say the things I’m thinking now_   
_Pete joined in the last verse tunelessly:_   
_But the something more I’m feeling must be love._

“I love that movie,” Pete said, already sounding sleepy again.

Patrick chuckled. “Of course you do. It’s about love, unconditional friendship, and faith in people. Those things are your specialties, Pete.” Pete yawned, and Patrick quoted the beloved spider: “Now go to sleep. You’ll see me in the morning.”

Pete nuzzled his chest and mumbled, “Mmmm, Patrick,” as he drifted off again.

As Patrick’s eyes slipped shut, he whispered, “My Pete,” and sighed contentedly, sleep overtaking him soon after.


	7. Chapter 7

They wandered the streets of Dublin intent on doing everything tourists are supposed to do there.

They started out by buying new, heavy, cable-knit wool sweaters. Pete listened intently as Patrick described everything for him: the overcast skies; the dark, earthy, windowless pubs; the perfectly lush, green hills dotted with fluffy, white sheep. Everything sounded like it was straight out of a postcard photo.

“It kind of is,” Patrick said with a chuckle. Pete hugged himself closer to Patrick's side. “I wish you could see it. I feel like my descriptions aren't doing it any justice.”

“It's OK, 'Trick,” Pete said softly. “I do remember what it's supposed to look like, from TV and stuff.”

“It's really not that far off,” Patrick replied.

“You ever realize we could pretty much be anywhere right now? I mean, as far as I'm concerned, you might have just taken me to the basement of our apartment building and put on some Irish music and I would never know the difference.”

Patrick laughed a little hollowly and said, “No, Pete, I can honestly say that lying to you and taking advantage of your lack of sight has never, ever occurred to me. Especially when we're talking about someplace I have wanted to visit most of my life.” He cupped Pete's face in his hands and kissed him soundly. “I do love how your mind works, though. I know I've told you that, but your brain is unlike any other I have encountered, and it fascinates me.”

“So we are in our basement, and you're about to kill me and cut out my brain?” Pete cocked an eyebrow.

Patrick snapped his fingers. “Curses. Foiled again.”

******

As they sat on a grassy knoll in the breeze, Pete took a deep breath in through his nose, inhaling the clean, damp scent. “Everything smells good here. Even the food smells better.”

Patrick hummed in agreement, his arm around Pete's shoulder. “It does.” He scooted around so Pete was in front of him, with Patrick's legs on either side, and wrapped his arms around Pete's body, holding him against his chest. “See? No lies. We're really in Ireland. Promise.” He rested his chin on Pete's shoulder and kissed his cheek.

“Well, the bummer part is that I can't smell your skin right now,” Pete said, with more than a little sadness in his voice.

“What do I smell like to you?” Patrick asked in Pete's ear, sending a shiver down Pete's spine.

Pete hummed happily and let his head loll back against Patrick's neck. “Hmmm, you smell... sweet and a little sweaty and soft. Like melting vanilla ice cream. I don't know how else to describe it.” He shrugged a shoulder and then turned his nose into Patrick's jaw, pressing a kiss there.

“Well, I kind of always look like melting vanilla ice cream, so I guess that's accurate,” Patrick observed.

“Was there an insult to yourself buried in that statement?” Pete asked.

Patrick nodded against Pete's head. “Yeah, I guess. I've never really been happy with how I look.”

“I know. I remember when you tried to tell me... that night.” Pete thought back to the first night he and Patrick had made love, how incredible and right everything had felt, and how frightened and insecure Patrick had been. “You were so scared. I thought you would tell me you weren't ready yet, you know, like, back out?”

Patrick was quiet a moment, then he admitted, “I almost did. I just... I wanted you so much, and I know you wanted me too, but it was just hard for me to wrap my head around, in a way. I don't think anyone's ever wanted me the way you do.”

“That's just ridiculous,” Pete said matter-of-factly. “How could anyone not be completely in love with you? I mean, you're kind, smart, funny, talented, and oh my God, your skin feels so fantastic and you have the best laugh and God, when you sing, it's just...” Pete finished with a grunt and a sigh. “Like soupy vanilla ice cream. All of it.” Pete extracted himself from Patrick's embrace and turned around, kneeling in front of Patrick and holding his face with his hands. He traced his thumbs over Patrick's cheeks. “I want you. Right here, right now, just like in Highlander.”

Patrick took Pete's hands in his and laughed. “Dude, that was Scotland, not Ireland. Don't make me sic Mike Myers on you.”

Pete frowned as he thought a moment, then laughed and said, “Oh, right! 'If it's not Scottish, IT'S CRAP!'”

“And anyway,” Patrick argued, “It's way too cold here for that. If we're gonna fuck, I want it to be toasty warm.” He slid his hands up Pete's back and pulled him in for a kiss, long and lingering and sweet.

Pete shivered. “Patrick Stump, how does that sweet, young mouth say such filthy words?” he said in a gravelly tone.

Patrick hummed, low and hungry, and said, “I guess my husband just... does things to me.”

Pete gasped and kissed Patrick again. “Come on, let's get out of here. Now.”

******

As soon as they were back in their room, Patrick was pulling Pete's sweater and t-shirt off. “God, you're gorgeous.” He ran his hands over the inked skin, letting the pads of his thumbs linger on Pete's nipples, making rough circles on the pebbling flesh. Pete moaned as his hips started jerking forward, seeking contact with his husband. "I'll never get tired of this, of looking at you."

“Patrick,” he breathed.

Patrick flipped his hands so he was rolling Pete's nipples between the backs of his first and second knuckles, then took Pete's earlobe in his mouth, sucking greedily. “Oh, did you want something?” he asked playfully in Pete's ear.

“Everything,” Pete groaned. “Anything, all of it. God, Patrick.” He was aching in his jeans now, desperate for Patrick to touch him.

Patrick growled his approval, then guided Pete's hands to the hem of his sweater and shirt. He held his arms up while Pete pulled it all off in one movement and tossed them aside. He ran his hands over Patrick's impossibly soft skin, just as the younger man had done to him a moment ago, his mouth hanging open in awe. “Patrick, you feel so incredible. I wanna touch you forever.” He found his way to Patrick's mouth and kissed him, tilting his head and pressing against him as their tongues slid together. “I wanna kiss you forever.” Pete slid his hands downward to Patrick's fly, palming his thick, hard cock. When Patrick gasped and moaned into Pete's open mouth, he added, “I wanna fuck you forever.”

“All, _ah_ , all good plans,” Patrick gasped as Pete continued stroking him. “I was hoping-- _oh, oh God_ \--I was hoping that sucking me would be somewhere in, in the, uh, immediate future?” His voice was quivering with the waves of pleasure rolling through him as Pete continued to caress him.

“Oh, fuck yes,” Pete agreed readily as he pressed his mouth against Patrick's, kissing him forcefully as he popped the button of Patrick's jeans and slid his fly down. The movements of his hands were slow and careful compared to his mouth, which was hastily and eagerly covering Patrick's mouth and neck with a flurry of lips and tongue, like he couldn't get to everywhere he wanted fast enough. Pete got both of their jeans and underwear off gracefully and rather quickly, considering how gingerly he was trying to work around their straining cocks. Patrick repositioned them so he was braced against the footboard of the bed while Pete knelt in front of him. He ran his nose, lips, and chin up and down Patrick's shaft, occasionally darting his tongue out to tease at the swollen, dark head, already leaking precome.

“Come on, Baby,” Patrick prodded. “Please, please suck me.”

Pete complied with a broad stroke of his tongue all the way from base to tip and then smoothly sinking his mouth down around his husband, sliding back and forth over the searing hot flesh, his mouth soaking wet. Patrick fisted a hand in Pete's hair, tugging on it and making Pete moan. The vibrations went coursing through every nerve ending in Patrick's body, and before he knew it, he was coming thickly down Pete's throat, calling Pete's name amid a litany of “Fuck fuck FUCK” and “Oh God”. His whole body shook as Pete nursed him through the aftershocks.

“God,” Patrick panted, petting Pete's hair. “God, Pete, you... you are so fucking good at that. Come on, come fuck me.” He said it as though he were inviting Pete to have coffee with him.

Pete laughed and wiped his mouth, then let himself be led onto the bed. Patrick put Pete behind him, while he knelt and leaned forward on his elbows with a towel placed thoughtfully over the pillows (Patrick knew this wasn't their room to clean up, and he wasn't a total savage, jeez). He handed Pete the lube, then bit his lip while Pete prepped him carefully, scissoring his fingers while he smoothed his other hand over Patrick's hip. Pete kissed the base of his spine, then coated himself, lined up, and pressed in just as gingerly as he'd prepped him. Patrick felt himself getting hard again already at the full feeling of Pete inside him, moving slowly and gently, trying to find his prostate from this angle. It always took him a few seconds, but the moment he did, Patrick cried out and pushed back harder. He reached behind him, and Pete immediately clasped Patrick's hand, and with the one still slick with lube, he reached around and stroked him lazily.

Pete leaned down and put his weight on his husband's body. “I love you,” he breathed into Patrick's ear. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” Patrick mumbled as they rocked together harder, faster.

Patrick suddenly came hard with a beautiful, melodic cry, clenching down around Pete and squeezing his orgasm out of him as Pete groaned with the force of it. He felt like all his insides were being pulled out and into Patrick, like he could just be absorbed fully into his soul and live there forever. He held Patrick's body tightly against his own, hands clasped over his heart, as they came down.

Pete pulled out limply and flopped down on his side, but Patrick took his wrists and said, “Come on, love.”

Pete let Patrick lead him into the bathroom and found the energy to be a little bit excited when he heard the shower turn on. After a minute, Patrick guided Pete under the water. Patrick washed their hair, and Pete sighed and purred at the feeling of Patrick cleaning him, running warm gentle hands over his body. It felt safe, comforting. As they were rinsing the soap off of them, Patrick collected Pete in a hug. “Thank you for marrying me.”

Pete held his Beautiful Boy With The Golden Voice, rubbing wet hands over his back, and said, “Thank you. For everything.”


End file.
